


drink up (so we can both finally die)

by mildlyobsessive



Series: summer days (drifting away) [1]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Self-Destruction, ish, ish again, the result of an uninspired trash bag, who would've guessed, wow that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7665232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mildlyobsessive/pseuds/mildlyobsessive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's August,</p>
            </blockquote>





	drink up (so we can both finally die)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from To Your Health by Keaton Henson, who everyone ever should listen to
> 
> I know I do the parentheses thing too much for titles but tHe AeStHeTiC so stfu por favor

It's August, and the air is hot and thick enough to glue their shirts to their chests. The grass is crispy brown and as dead as they feel and everything hurts in a way they can't decide is poetic or pathetic. Maybe both. 

It's August, and they steal their parents' cars and don't feel bad about it and fly down highways with windows down and music blaring in an attempt to be like the kids in the movies they watch in chilly, dark theaters that are more suited for back row makeouts than anything else. The happy ending doesn't come like they hoped, but they break the speed limit anyway.

It's August, and they sit on rocky beaches with picnic baskets full of vodka and Josh's dad's cigarettes and pretend to be mature and happy and alive. The vodka burns going down and the cigarettes make them cough, but they like them in spite of, or maybe because of, that.

It's August, and everything's alive and they go to the drive-in and watch shitty animated movies and stare at the burnt cotton candy sunset and try to find constellations they're not sure are there and kiss each other like it means something they both know it doesn't.

It's August, and they pretend.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel the need to say that I am a very unhappy with my existence thus far and that is why my writing is crappy angst so excuse me


End file.
